Author’s note: Incidents in Syria have been devastating for the people of the country and the world alike. For half a decade the people have been taken for a ride by a group of neo-fascists. This is a poem that tells you about it from the point of view of a woman. This poem will be published in visual verse, an anthology website. Here’s the Link. Hope this puts things in perspective for you. Good day to you!

Do you hear that?

That’s the sound of my heart,

As it beats through time,

A very human thing it does,

For Syria it beats, in Syria, with Syria.

 

Do you hear that?

That’s the sound of my house,

A house that doesn’t exist now,

It fell, along with my man, my son.

For Syria, it fell, in Syria, with Syria.

 

Do you see that?

That’s a veil shrouding me,

It hides the marks, the signs

Of my pain, my abuse, my honor,

For Syria, I bled, in Syria, with Syria.

 

Do you see that?

That’s my daughter,

She was beat, tortured, taken.

By men; she doesn’t talk anymore.

For Syria, she’s mute, in Syria, with Syria.

 

Do you smell that?

That’s smoke as they burn,

The things that mattered,

The people that mattered,

For Syria, they burn, in Syria, with Syria.

 

Do you smell that?

That’s the phosphorous

From the explosives,

A few more of my kin just died.

For Syria, they died, in Syria, with Syria.

 

Do you feel that?

The cold breeze,

Or the heat waves, that hits us,

As we have no roof over us,

For Syria, we’re homeless, in Syria, with Syria.

 

Do you feel that?

The feeling of loneliness,

For we have no one anymore,

We are women betrayed by humanity,

For Syria, our lives, in Syria, with Syria.

 

Do you hear it?

Do you see it?

Do you smell it?

Do you feel it?

Our past was shred apart,

Our bodies were abused,

Our lives were played with,

Our futures were made dark,

Our tears they fall,

For Syria,

In Syria,

With Syria.

S. Narayanswamy